Nights Like These
by denisewrites
Summary: AU. Troy is on a path of self-destruction because of a girl who left him a long time ago. Pen-name change previously inconsoleable2.
1. Slow Dancing

Disclaimer: Don't own any of it.

Note: AU. Most definitely AU. I don't how to sum it up, Troy's on a journey of self-destruction because of a girl who left him a long time ago.

The cigarette ignited casting a warm glow in the dark space. His hands, shaking slightly brought it away from his lips and he exhaled breathing out the toxic air. His thumb flicked it downwards and embers flew in different directions. He brought it back up to his lips breathing it in like a sweet aroma. He closed his eyes and there she was, she was always there, her head on his chest their bodies swaying slowly. He flicked cigarette to the concrete smashing the burn out with the heel of his boot. He let his head fall back against the brick of the building, opening his eyes only to be met with darkness. He swore under his breath. He reached in his pocket and pulled out the slim chrome flask, twisting off the cap before bringing it up to his mouth, the dark liquid burned as it traveled down his throat. He finished it and slid the flask back into his pocket, before pushing off the wall and making his way to his truck. He wouldn't drive home; he slithered onto the leather seat, pulling the door shut. His eyes closed within minutes lolling him into a deep drunken sleep.

_The song drifted into the desolate bar, echoing off the exposed brick walls. She felt his arms encircle her waist and his whiskey breath whispered into her eye._

"_Dance with me." _

_Three simple words. To many people it was just a gesture. Dancing, that is. But to her it meant so much more, especially since it would be the last dance they would share. She rested her heavy head on his warm chest trying to remember this moment. He held her waist tightly, pulling her a closer and kissing her neck. She could feel people staring, could feel his drunken feet moving wrong, she didn't care. The song ended fading out she held onto him for a few seconds longer before leaning up and capturing his lips in a long kiss._

"_Let's get out of here."_

_His words were barely above a whisper and whiskey laced. But she found herself taking his hand and leading him to the car. He was asleep by the time they made it back to his apartment. _

"_Come on baby, were home." _

_She held back threatening tears as she tried to lace her strained voice with honey. He mumbled something before stretching his arms and slowly managed to get out of the car on his own. She grasped him around the waist and his arm slung loosely on her shoulder. The walk to his particular apartment seemed like hours. They stumbled inside and she led him to his bed. She pulled his jeans and shirt off and left him clad only in boxers. Slowly brushing the chestnut hair aside she kissed his sticky forehead breathing in his scent of cigarette smoke and alcohol._

"_Bye Troy."_

_The words were whispered but he had heard them, if he had known he would've stopped her, promised her a change, but in his drunken state he believed she would be back tomorrow, just like she always was._

Troy awoke with a jolt, he squinted his eyes trying to remember exactly where he was. Reality came a few seconds later when he recognized his truck's interior. He sighed sitting up slowly and he could feel a hangover from hell in its early stages. Every night it was the same thing.

It was almost funny that his drinking was what drove her away and now drinking was filling the void that she left. No matter how he looked at it, Troy always came to the same conclusion he would forever be stuck in this sickening cycle of reliving that night in every possible way until she was his again. He wasn't hopeful though, she broke his hope a long time ago, the night she left him. Troy Bolton's faith was still stuck on a wooden dance floor, in a bar, out in the middle of nowhere along with his broken heart.

A/N: So this was gonna be a two-shot but now I'm not so sure. I'm not the type of person to beg for reviews but some feedback would be nice. Please and thank you. I drew some inspiration from the song Slow Dancing by Lucero. Amazing song by the way.


	2. Sweet Little Thing

Disclaimer: Don't own any of it.

Note: AU. Most definitely AU. I don't how to sum it up, Troy's on a journey of self-destruction because of a girl who left him a long time ago.

Work seemed to drag on that day. Troy sighed pushing his papers aside and letting his head fall to his desk, if there was one benefit of working for his father, it was the fact that he could get away with a lot. He felt his heavy lids begin to close further until her was fast asleep.

"_Dude this town sucks" Nineteen year old Troy Bolton complained, throwing the Xbox controller down._

"_Okay and I can help that how?" Chad Danforth asked picking the controller up and continuing the game._

"_I don't know, let's go downtown or something."_

"_We have done that since we were like fifteen." He groaned in response._

_Troy jumped up grabbing his faded Members Only jacket._

"_Exactly, it'll be fun." He threw Chad his own jacket and proceeded to the door._

_Downtown wasn't exactly hopping as Troy had hoped; it seemed so much cooler when he had been younger. He sighed they had been walking for twenty minutes and Chad had made it very clear he was bored._

"_Let's grab a cup of coffee." Troy suggested, he knew the coffee shop wasn't exactly either of their scenes but everyone needed to broaden their horizons every once in awhile._

"_Whatever" Chad grumbled following Troy into the small entrance._

_Immediately their nostrils were filled with the smell of coffee and incense._

"_It smells like hippie in here" Chad commented quietly_

"_How would you even know what that smells like?" Troy asked smirking; he took his place in line and glanced over the menu, while Chad plopped down on a nearby couch. _

"_I would suggest the pumpkin spice; it has just the right amount of sweet and spicy." Her voice in his ear was as sweet as honey. He turned taking in her appearance; she was wearing a short loose fitted white dress with boots. Her hair was long, parted down the middle, and she had two small French braids adorning each side. She looked like the stereotypical coffee shop type._

"_I'm not a big fan of pumpkin." He commented._

"_Hmmm…what about caramel?"_

"_It's alright; I think I'm going to go with the white chocolate mocha."_

"_Ick." She commented "I'm Gabriella by the way."_

"_Troy." He commented shaking her outstretched hand._

"_So tell me Gabriella do you always approach good looking men in coffee shops?"_

"_Tell me Troy, do you always hold yourself at such a high standard." She shot back smartly._

Troy awoke abruptly from his dream; thinking back to that night he could remember everything so clearly leading up to their downfall. He and Gabriella spent that whole night just talking and from then on were pretty much inseparable. Things were glided right along for about two years and then Troy turned twenty one and that's when everything went downhill. He shook his head trying to shake his thoughts of her away. He needed a drink.

If there was one thing Troy Bolton loved it was tequila. Sure he loved whiskey and gin and many other dark liquors, but nothing burned as good as a little Jose Cuervo, and currently he was throwing back his eighth shot. He slammed the small glass object on the table nearly shattering it.

"One more." His husky voice floated across the bar, as he directed a command at the young bartender.

"Coming right up, man."

Seconds later another glass was placed in front of him, he downed and smiled his buzz was borderline drunk and now all he had to do was find a girl to pass the time. He surveyed the area, squinting his eyes to make things more stable. Then he saw her. At first he thought his eyes were playing tricks on him, that he had just mistaken her identity. He roughly rubbed at his eyes and opened them again and still she was there in the corner booth, with a group of girls.

She was beautiful, he watched her as she tucked a curl behind and her and continued laughing before reaching for her water bottle. She never drank. Never touched alcohol a day in her life, she always reminded him of that fact, always reminded him that she was indeed too good for him. She wasn't always though; there was a point in time early on that they were perfect for each other, successful, and happy. Happy. He wasn't sure he even knew what that was anymore. He continued to watch her. She was happy, that he was sure of. Her laughter erupted from her mouth and she quickly covered her mouth to quiet the volume of it. She didn't even notice him. This wasn't the first time he'd seen her. He saw her once before. In a crowded bar with a group of people, good people. He knew he would never be what she wanted, what she needed, he had accepted that fact a long time ago. That's why he never pursued it. Truth be told he had driven her away. Still he kept his eyes glued on her, he watched as she politely excused herself and stood, and looked in his direction, her face fell immediately, he quickly turned around in his stool and tried to cover his face from her view. But he knew she had seen him, he could feel her eyes burning into his back. It was as if the bar suddenly went silent and all that could be heard where her heels clicking against the hardwood floors.

"Hi." It was a simple greeting, and he almost lost it just at the sound of her voice. He cleared his throat and looked up at her. She was in short stunning, her small brown dress hugged to her petite frame, her tall boots fit her small legs perfectly and her long ebony hair, curled to perfection splayed across her shoulders.

"Hey." It was all he could muster.

"How are you?"

"Good."

"Yeah I see that." She replied glancing at the shot glasses surrounding him.

"How are you?" He asked choosing to ignore her comment.

"Fine." Her reply was flimsy and meek.

He looked in her eyes, and in that moment he knew he could spill a thousand apologies and promises and they could try and work things out, but instead he stood and slid his jacket on.

"It was good to see you." He said it quickly not even giving her a chance to reply and he was gone.

He fell back against the brick of the building and slid to the concrete. He couldn't breathe. He had been lying to his self for so long. He wanted her. Wanted to be good enough for her. He loved her. He felt the tears running down his face, touching his lips, salty to taste. He didn't even try to stop them.


End file.
